Smart People
by lilkawa
Summary: Mary waits for her husband to come home...


**Downton Abbey doesn't belong to me**

**I have glossed over many issues but …**

**Smart People**

Mary sat in the sitting room waiting for her husband to come home. It was hard to believe what they'd been through over the past few years. The hasty marriage, the war and long separation and finally his return just three weeks ago.

They had married just before he'd gone off to war. Worried that she might never see him again; she had insisted upon the marriage, which was surprising since she had just rejected him a few days prior.

_Matthew was sitting in the sitting room thinking. He couldn't believe that they were at war with Germany. Of course, he had to go and fight every capable male aged between fifteen and forty was going to fight. Matthew had never been in a serious fight in his whole life, now he was going to carry a gun and shoot and kill people. When had the world become this cold, cruel place?_

_There was a knock at the door and Mary walked in. Matthew stood up and smiled at his cousin. He was always happy to see Mary even though just a few days ago she had told him that she could never marry him. _

"_I love you, Matthew," she'd told him, "but I can't marry you. Not now, and if you really knew me you wouldn't want to marry me either."_

_He'd tried to press her for an explanation but she'd run away._

_Now she was standing in front of him. He could tell she'd been crying; her eyes were red and she had stains on her cheeks. He wondered what had happened to her._

"_Mary, what brings you here? Are you alright?"_

_She moved closer to him until there was no space separating them. "Matthew can I ask you a question?"_

"_Of course," he replied._

"_When you proposed over a month ago, you said you loved me - ," she paused and he prompted her, 'Yes?"_

"_Do you still love me?" she asked me._

"_How can you ask me that? What kind of question is that?" Matthew asked her._

"_It's just that since then you've never said that you loved me," she replied._

"_Mary, how can you doubt my love for you? You're the reason I stayed here, my reason for being."_

_He loved at her with such love that Mary felt kind of silly._

"_So what you are saying is that you love me?" she asked him._

"_Mary, is this some kind of test?"_

_She shook her head and continued looking at him steadily. Matthew looked at her and then as though he was a man possessed he began to kiss her. Mary kissed him back._

"_I'd marry you in heartbeat," Mary told him._

_Matthew looked at her, "Mary that is cruel even for you."_

"_You're telling me that it is cruel to accept a proposal of marriage from a man who says he loves me and whom I love?"_

_Matthew couldn't believe his ears. This was just a dream, Mary couldn't be saying she'd marry him now, now when he had to go off and fight and probably be killed in battle._

"_Unless you've changed your mind. If you don't want to marry me anymore I understand."_

_Mary had been standing with her hands around his neck but now she dropped him and stepped back._

"_Of course, I want to marry you. But perhaps this isn't the best time," Matthew said._

"_Nonsense." Mary said._

"_Surely we can put it off, wait until I return," Matthew suggested and then at her look he'd relented, "I can think of no reason why we should wait."_

"_Matthew, there's something I have to tell you first."_

"_Anything." Matthew replied promptly._

_Mary looked down; 'how do I tell you. He's look at me different, he won't love me anymore.'_

_Matthew smiled at her and Mary decided to tell him immediately._

"_It's about Pamuk." At his blank look she added, "The Turkish gentleman."_

"_What about him?"_

"_He was my - ." she stopped._

"_He was your what?" Matthew asked her._

"_I was with him when he died." Mary said quietly. She had tears running down her neck._

"_What do you mean you were with him?" Matthew looked at her. "Mary, were you in his room when he died?"_

"_No," she paused and then said, "He was in mine." She couldn't bear to see the disappointment in his face._

"_He was in your room, what was he doing in your - ?" he stopped, understanding dawning on him. "I see."_

_Mary walked to the door, certain that Matthew never wanted to see her again._

"_Did you love him?"_

_Mary stopped and looked at him not understanding the question._

"_Do you wish that he was still alive?"_

"_No, I don't need a reminder of my mistake. I wish I'd had the courage to say no but I didn't. I'm sorry."_

_Matthew looked at her and walked towards her and pulled her into his arms._

"_Thank you for trusting me." He said and she smiled a watery smile._

"_You know you didn't have to tell me," Matthew said._

"_I don't want there to be any secrets between us," Mary told him._

Mary remembered how Matthew had held her in his arms and they had cried together.

xxx

She picked up the bundle of letters; letters that they had sent to each others, letters filled with their hopes and fears. These letters had been their lifeline during the long separation. Mary loved Matthew so much it sometimes scared her that he had such a powerful hold on her that she would be willing to do _anything _to please him and to be with him. Her consolation was that Matthew seemed to feel exactly the same way; she wasn't in it alone.

Matthew had gone to see his mother after which he had a meeting with Lord Grantham to discuss some business pertaining to Crawley village and Downton Abbey; he had promised to return almost an hour ago. Mary wasn't worried; she knew he was safe, she just missed him.

After sitting for another half hour she decided to take a bath. Their home was a small three bed roomed cottage on the estate and they had only two servants; a cook and a butler. They had maids come in from the main house everyday to clean and take care of the laundry. It was a simpler life than Mary had been used to but she liked it. They had agreed to continue living there until Matthew inherited the title.

The door of their bedroom opened and Mary smiled anticipating the entrance of her beloved husband.

"My dear Mary, forgive me for being late," he told her, "there was some urgent business that we couldn't put off. They invited us to dine but I told them that we'd already made arrangements."

He walked over to the bed, on which she was sitting and kissed her.

"No matter, you're home now." She smiled at him.

"Mrs. Litton says that supper will be on the table in fifteen minutes."

After supper, while Mary waited for Matthew to come out of the bathroom, she remembered a conversation she'd had with her parents on the day Matthew had first proposed to her.

She'd told her parents something about really smart people having separate bedrooms, even if just for show. Her father had replied that he had the bed in the dressing room made up for that purpose. Mary had shaken her head at them.

She remembered wondering why _and how_ her parents slept together in the same bed every day. She knew they loved each other but really, even if one loved another person, sleeping in separate rooms was the done thing, the smart thing. It was what she going to insist upon when she got married.

Now she couldn't imagine what she'd been thinking, how young and naïve she'd been. Having separate bedrooms? What a crazy idea. Mary had discovered in these three weeks that she couldn't sleep unless she could hear Matthew's heart beating, with her head on his chest.

Really smart people slept in separate rooms? What an infantile idea.

**Please tell me what you think.**

**Hope you like it.**


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